


The Will of the Wisps

by Ksco



Category: Faerie Folklore, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author Does Not Regret A Damn Thing, Ben Wanted An Adventure But Not This Adventure, Binding Of Souls, Budget Travel Gone Wrong, College Student Ben, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Europe, Except Maybe Posting at 3AM, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Faelo Is Endgame, Faerie Rey, Folklore, Forced Marriage, Magical Quests, Or... Pregame?, Sexual Tension, ambiguous ending, wild magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-24 18:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ksco/pseuds/Ksco
Summary: Ben Solo has always been a dreamer, a believer of the impossible, a lover of folklore and fiction. When he convinces his best friends to take a gap year before their final year of college and travel Europe with him, he never expects to stumble head first into the arms of the fae.Or heart first into her.





	1. The Wisp Sings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reyloise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyloise/gifts).

> Thank you reyloise for submitting this gorgeous prompt for TWD's Fall Is Cumming collection! 
> 
> _"On Halloween night, whilst travelling around Britain, Ben accidentally disturbs a faerie circle and is held captive by them. One of the faeries he is captured by - in more ways than just one - is Rey."_
> 
> I knew the second I laid eyes on it that I would be obsessed, so buckle up boys and girls!
> 
> **This fic has a spotify playlist!**  
https://tinyurl.com/willofthewisps

_There are sacred nights when the wings of the fair folk brush upon the mortal realm, where the veil shimmers in it’s translucency and the tinkling laughter of the fae carries like a caress on the gentle touch of the wind summoning the unsuspecting man to his fate. Enter cautiously, mortal man, for though they be beautiful do not presume that the fae are kind._

_Perhaps the most famed of these twilight places are hidden before our very eyes in the Drombeg Stone Circle of Ireland, the Callanish Stones of Scotland, and Stonehenge of Great Britain. Folklore speaks to these monuments, these elaborate faerie rings as it were, as gateways of great power opened sparingly by the fae only in times of greatest need._

“And so,” Ben glanced up before continuing to read somberly from his tablet, eyes alight with a fervor that his friends did not return, “The lives of the fae and that of mortal man begin to intermingle at these infamous junctions where worlds collide.” 

“That’s not the story,” Hux interrupted hotly, turning his camera away from the rolling hillside to capture a quick shot of Ben’s unimpressed glare. He studied the photo on the screen with a smirk. “God, it’s like I’m the only one that ever pays attention in class. We literally covered an entire chapter in European History about Stonehenge being carbon dated to the Neolithic period and how the trilithons align with dates in the megalithic calendar. It’s nothing more than a glorified sundial, not some absurd meeting place for frolicking faeries.” 

Poe’s head popped up as he leaned forward with his arms thrown wide to embrace the seats Ben and Hux occupied. 

“I agree with Ben, though I’m partial to the Artemis Fowl theory about it being the world’s first pizza parlour. Think about it. It’s even shaped like a pizza. It’s not the fae’s fault our neanderthal ancestors were too uncivilized to appreciate such a fine establishment! Oh look— sheep!” 

“I did not pay £18 to listen to the both of you blather on about faeries and pizza,” Hux groaned as he buried his face in his tour brochure. “We’re trusting in science, boys, science!” 

“_If you look to your left, you’ll catch your first glance of the sarsen stones that make up the outer ring of Stonehenge.” _

Hux had a knee braced on the seat and an elbow digging into Ben’s shoulder before the words ‘_sarsen stones’ _had even left the tour guide’s lips. He leaned over Ben with one eye glued to the viewfinder, wildly snapping photos as if his life depended on it.

_ “These stones were likely transported from a region approximately 30km north of Amesbury. The largest of the sarsen stones weigh in at just over 40 tons.” _

Poe whistled low in admiration. 

_"The smaller stones, called bluestones, were imported from even further and have been traced back to the Preseli Hills of Wales, some 240km away. It is unknown if the stones were transported by land or by sea.” _

“See?” Hux paused in his photo journaling to glance down at Ben in smug satisfaction. “A perfectly valid scientific explanation.”

_ “It is rumored that the bluestones carry healing properties around times of transition, such as solstices and other older pagan holidays.” _

“See?” Ben mimicked as he snatched the camera from his friend’s hands to fire off a few shots of his own. “There’s still a little magic left in the world.”

He aligned the horizon so that it followed the rule of thirds that his photography professor had drilled into their heads all semester and watched as Stonehenge grew in his limited field of vision. 

A soft, almost choked noise sounded behind them. Poe sat with his forehead pressed against the glass and a pained expression on his face. His hands were splayed wide on the window as he gazed down at the rolling hillside below.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, “These sheep are killing me! Do you think they’ll let me pet them?”

* * *

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” Hux asked quietly as they walked toward Stonehenge. Their footsteps were muffled by the dirt path, adding to the somber atmosphere that had descended once they’d crossed into the field where the prehistoric wonder stood. The stones looked larger than life now. More on par with the giants that they were than the dwarves that they’d appeared as from afar. 

“Not really.” Ben shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he struggled for words. “It’s different when you’re only reading about it. I’ve spent my entire life fascinated with places like this but there’s only so much that words and pictures can do for you. It’s interesting, but it’s not inspiring.”

They stopped in front of the simple rope fence that stood guard before them. 

“This,” he gestured widely to encompass everything from the pale green of the grass, to the gently sloping shadows falling from the stones, to the peek-a-boo mushrooms growing playfully in between. “Being here? It’s like a dream. I’m not sure if I want to wake up.” 

“I get it. Even though I don’t believe in faeries and shit, even I can admit that there’s a gravity here. It’s almost magical somehow.” 

Ben turned to stare at Hux in surprise. “Say that again?” 

“Those are words that will never cross my lips again in this lifetime, Benny boy. Be satisfied with what you got.” 

In silence, Ben and Hux began the slow circuit that would carry them around the monument. They’d opted out of the audio tour, partially because of Hux’s personal armada of travel guides in his bag and partially because Ben wanted to savor the moment. Eventually, Hux handed his guidebook to Ben and pulled out his camera, the steady click of the shutter the only sound between them.

Just shy of the final quarter, Poe bounded up to them. 

“Alright, so the sheep in that field were a bit jaded that I didn’t have snacks, but the man at the gate said that the far pasture is usually just the right side of desperate that I might have some luck. Don’t leave without me!” 

“Do you think he even cares?” Hux asked as they watched Poe lope away and then abandon the path in favor of the most direct route possible. 

“Don’t sell him short, he did build butterhenge.” 

“Right. How could I ever forget that?”

* * *

Booking the cheapest mixed dorm room in the smattering of hostels that Amesbury had to offer had been somewhat of a mistake. Ben should have paid closer attention when the reviews used words like _ quaint _ and _ cozy _ to describe the rooms, but he’d been lured in by the charming brickwork exterior, ambling outdoor garden, and promise of bug free bedding being included when he booked the old farmhouse-turned-youth-hostel. 

Surely a room designed to host three people would be larger than a shoe box?

Turns out he was wrong about that. 

Ben narrowly avoided an elbow to the face as Poe vigorously towel dried his upside down head in the cramped space between the minimalist bunks. They never spent much time in any of the rooms they rented but there was something about the stale air and tight space that made Ben’s skin crawl and his feet itch to take him back to the limitlessness of the outdoors. 

Instead, he flopped down next to where Hux lay with his camera in hand and feet kicked up on the wall. The single bed groaned under the added weight, complaining grumpily of better days where the most it had been asked to support were the children that it had surely been designed for. 

Hux flicked lazily through the events of the day, stopping occasionally to straighten a horizon or crop out a stranger that had moved into the edge of his shot.

“Isn’t this interesting?” Hux drew a lazy circle above his screen, “The mushrooms mimic the ring design of the monument. I wonder what makes them grow that way?” 

“It’s probably nothing,” Ben offered as he shifted to arrange his sprawling limbs on the bed without touching his friend. Hux moved to the next photo, a closeup of a cluster of the heavily capped mushrooms in question. “Or someone who volunteers thought that it would add to the mystery of the place.” 

“Hashtag Stonehenge aesthetic. Hashtag mystical faerie bullshit,” Hux snickered. 

Ben was quiet as they scrolled through the rest of the photos. 

“I think I’m going to go back tonight,” he said softly, gazing at the springs above him to avoid eye contact with either of his friends. “It’s technically one of the old world holidays the guide was talking about today and-” 

Chaos erupted in the room.

Hux shifted onto his side so fast that the bed threatened to give way beneath them. “Are you an idiot?” He demanded, “You’re going to get arrested. Again.” 

“What about the Halloween party?” Poe whined through the material of the shirt he was pulling over his head. He threw himself at Ben with pleading puppy dog eyes the moment he was free. “There’s going to be free booze, Ben! Free!” 

“I am not bailing your dumb ass out of jail again. We’d probably have to get the consulate involved this time.” Hux's face twisted, souring at the memory.

“I’m pretty sure the girls they checked in before us were from Scotland!” Poe moaned with his lip sticking out and hands held as if in prayerful supplication inches from Ben's face. 

Ben struggled to his feet, shoving Poe unceremoniously to the floor as he turned to face his friends. 

“Jeeze, relax. I won’t get arrested. I’ve already googled it. Apparently there’s a pedestrian path that isn’t monitored that I can use.” 

“Ben,” Hux warned. 

“Nothing will happen,” Ben said as he fished his shower kit from his pack and paused with a hand on the door, turning to look Hux directly in the eye. "I promise.”

* * *

It was colder than Ben expected on the walk back to Stonehenge. 

The brisk air nipped at his exposed fingertips and his breath left in little puffs of condensation that hovered briefly before disappearing as if it had never existed. The night was alive around him, lit from an ethereal glow cast by a shy moon and stars that wove in and out between gentle wisps of cloud that lazed about the night sky. 

He would have liked to see the stars in all their glory, a canvas of tiny constellations scattered across the night sky as far as the eye could see, but he would take what he could get. 

It was still glorious. 

There hadn’t been many animals despite Hux’s vehement protestations that he was bound to be attacked by a wild creature hunting in the night and _ ‘then what would you do without anyone to save you, hrmm? _’. So far the only living things he’d actually seen had been these strange blue lightning bugs that hovered delicately along the path he was walking. 

He hadn’t even known that Britain had lightning bugs, let alone ones that shone such a rich shade of cobalt blue. 

“Hello,” Ben said softly, reaching out with a slow princess wave to try to cup one of the lights in his hand before it faded away into the darkness. It bobbed demurely, as if giving him a final curtsy before the curtain fell, and dimmed until it was lost to his view. 

“Alright then, keep your secrets,” Ben laughed, “I’ll get them out of you yet.” 

They reminded him a little of ghost lights. 

The guiding lights in the stories that were passed down from generation to generation but deemed too fantastical to be true, thus doomed to be immortalized only in tales that defied reality. He could see it now, played out vividly in front of him, how a tired traveler journeying late into the night might have felt like they suddenly had a mystical entourage leading the way. 

“Will o’ wisps,” a grin touched his lips as he gave name to the lights. “It’s nice to meet you, my tiny dancing friends.” 

Every now and again, Ben would reach out in the hopes that one would alight on his hand but they always slipped away at the last moment. Time passed quickly as he chased the lights, to the extent that it took him by surprise when the gate materialized in front of him. 

He pushed it open, wincing at the squeal of the rusted hinges that cut through the silence like a knife and waited with bated breath for someone to appear. 

The night lay still around him as he stepped onto the field. 

Stonehenge beckoned him forward with every step, lit invitingly from the heavens above. The wisps began to dance erratically as Ben ducked the rope barrier and stepped carefully into the moonlit shadow cast by the stones. They ran true like an arrow shot straight into the heart of the stone circle. 

And Ben followed, a childlike wonder bursting from his heart as he took his first steps through the outer ring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely nothing of interest is going to await Ben in the middle of that stone circle.
> 
> Nope, nothing. Nada. 
> 
> Carry on with your day now.


	2. This Is Us Colliding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben enthusiastically breaks the rules and gets a little more than he bargained for...
> 
> Oh honey, bless your heart. 

_*Moodboard by [Han](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquusGirl0621/pseuds/EquusGirl)_

The rough hew of the first sarsen stone ghosted beneath Ben’s fingertips as he held his breath and reverently trailed them over the surface. He took a step closer, solemnly pressing his hand against the stone until it lay flat. The oils from his hand would remain there, seeping into the porous texture and claimed as a living piece of history. It was cool and grounding, calming his trembling as he stole this opportunity that so few had. 

This was, after all, why the English Heritage had put up a rope blockade in the first place. To keep fools like him from destroying such a precious place. 

_ Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints. _

His old scouts leader would have heaved a massive sigh at him in this moment. 

A gust of wind found its way through the middle of the stones, pausing to tousle his hair into his eyes as it passed by. It carried the vaguest hint of twinkling laughter, as if mother nature herself was amused by the boyish wonder that surely played on his lips. 

Ben gave the stone a small, appreciative pat as he moved away, finger combing his hair with both hands and securing it with a tie as he looked around and debated his next move. He could always do a lap along the inside of the outer circle before he moved inward toward the bluestones and the three remaining intact trilithons that stood proudly in the center. That would be amusing, just to be able to say that he’d done it.

Two steps to the left and it felt wrong, totally and utterly wrong. 

A stomach twisting, headache inducing, anxiety gnawing type of wrong. 

He shook his head, hoping the moment would pass. It was dehydration, perhaps. Or his glucose had fallen from the brisk walk that had followed barely nibbling on his dinner and his body was starting to notice now that the adrenaline was wearing off. 

Only...

The wisps weren’t in front of him anymore. 

They hovered along his original path and a great sense of urgency swept through Ben. If he followed, the wisps would take him right up to the base of the trilithon that he knew aligned with the rising of the sun during the winter solstice. To stand before it would be a childhood dream come true.

Still, he hesitated. 

The air felt dense with something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

He cast his eyes around the monument, suddenly suspicious that he wasn’t the only one hidden in the shadow of the stones. The moonlight illuminated the center of the circle completely, casting it in a soft, otherworldly glow that almost seemed to shimmer in places from the way the light refracted off the pale stone surfaces. The night stayed quiet around him, broken only by the gentle melody of insects singing their nightly prayers mingled with hints of the laughter he had heard before, probably carried on the wind from some nearby Halloween party. 

No artificial lights cutting through the dark to destroy his night vision. No hurried footsteps sounded along the beaten path. 

Only him, the stones, and that scattering of odd little mushrooms that Hux had pointed out earlier. 

He released a deep, steadying breath and stepped out into the moonlight. Striding past the smaller bluestones without so much as a brush of his fingers to test the validity of the tour guides claims and was just stepping over the ring of mushrooms-

Pain exploded in his body. 

Ben doubled over instantly, clutching his abdomen and retching violently in the grass as an ear-splitting cacophony took up residence in his head. His entire nervous system sang as if someone had replaced it with the overly taut strings of a violin and then stepped up without warning and begun to play. Only, instead of drawing the bow, they plucked away at random, a pinch and a ping and the pain that followed, and then set the violin on fire when the melody didn’t form as expected. 

It eased after god knew how long. 

He remained crouched in a fetal position as his senses swirled back in, breathing heavily while resting his forehead on the cool ground in exhaustion. 

A minute. That’s all he needed and then he’d get up.

A throat cleared in front of him. 

“Now, what do we have here?” 

The woman standing before him was nothing short of formidable. 

Blue steel ensnared him as she leaned forward, gripping his jaw in an iron fist and raising him effortlessly to his feet. He stumbled forward, stunned at the realization that she easily matched him even when he was standing at his full height. Ben knew he was pale, but this woman was paler, cast in a glow that hinted at transcendental elegance rather than pasty bookworm that never saw the sun. The delicate gown wrapped around her only emphasized her beauty, shifting and flowing as if it defied the laws of the universe itself.

There was no doubt in Ben’s mind that he was standing before a queen.

She leaned in, forcing his head from side to side as she studied his profile with an intensity that almost made him quake in his boots. The only thing worse would be if his mother’s voice sprung from her lips and issued his full name into the night. 

“Fetch the girl,” she commanded, releasing him and curling two fingers forward in the air beside her as if some unknown entity would emerge to obey her every beck and call. 

Ben willed himself to stay upright, desperate to conceal the dizziness that had come rushing in the moment she had stopped touching him. The fierceness in her face shifted, transforming into that of a welcoming, generous host.

“Come,” she said simply, stepping to the side and beckoning him forward with a wave of her hand. “We welcome you. Eat, dance, and be merry while the night is still young.” 

* * *

It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. He’d been locked in the shadows, only to watch, mesmerized, as they resolved themselves into tall, willowy beings, each more beautiful than the last. They bustled around him with an electric energy; talking, tasting, drinking, and laughing as they celebrated late into the night.

Ben felt exhilarated by magic of it all.

He was beginning to think that the legends surrounding the bluestones’ healing properties were simply the rejuvenation of the soul that one felt after stumbling upon a faerie party.

A shower of sparks had been poked until it roared to life, twisting into a pillar of white gold and burnt orange, spitting flame at all who dared to pass too near. Drinks emerged, sparkling in the clear crystal they were served in, and the plates that were passed carried delicacies that Ben could only marvel at with aromas that tickled his nose and delighted his senses. 

He behaved himself though, politely declining all food or drink offered to him with the awareness that the fae did not offer gifts to mortal men lightly. He did, however, participate in the dancing. It was a thrill unlike any other, twirling in the arms of beings that moved with the same lightness and freedom as the wind itself and then trusting in fate to carry him to his next partner. 

Delighted laughter slipped unbidden from the lips of the young woman currently in his arms as he dipped her low and then pulled her close again, only to spin her out to hang carefully suspended on the tips of his fingers. Firelight danced in the spun gold of her braids, pinned delicately to her head in twin buns that gave her an innocent and pure look. 

She twirled back to him with a smile on her face, one hand coming to rest playfully on his chest while she interlaced the fingers of the other with his. They waltzed a few steps, and then she laughingly dipped him in return, a move that would change the course of his life forever. 

For at the pinnacle of his dip, with his world turned upside down, his gaze laid to rest _ on her_. 

She was the most stunning woman that he had ever set eyes on. 

Where the girl in his arms was bright, this woman eclipsed her in a way that no flame, no source of light in the galaxy could ever compare to. Her body spoke of a lithe grace that rivaled that of a wild cat as she strode across the grass, fierce, almond eyes fixed firmly on his. She carried herself with purpose, and he knew instinctively that that purpose was him. 

_ ‘She’s powerful_,’ something inside him warned. ‘_A warrior among her people_.’ 

And then she was gone, an insistent tug pulling him back into the arms of the petite blonde shining like he could be her world. She moved to step into him at the same moment that he took a step back to disentangle himself from her grasp. Her eyes blazed and her fingers, longer and thinner than Ben could have sworn they were a moment before, closed around his wrist. 

They battled for dominance, until a firm, lilting voice sliced through the air beside them. 

“Let him go, Kaydel.” 

His mystery woman was standing before them, fierce with fire in her dark eyes and a dagger in hand, and Kaydel stepped away quickly. The women stared each other down in a silent challenge before Kaydel wilted in submission and walked away.

Finally, she pocketed her weapon and took Ben delicately by the hand as if he were something precious to be treasured. 

“Hello,” she said simply, “You may call me Rey."

* * *

Rey’s presence at his side was a constant, equally captivating and blinding to everything outside of the realm that contained him and her and this _ pull _that existed between them. He understands now, implicitly, why the great poet Virgil would immortalize a woman so beautiful that she had the power to launch a thousand ships into war, how the biblical King David could orchestrate the murder of his own man simply to lay claim to his wife, and the fierce devotion that ancient Egyptians showed to their warrior queens. 

They had known each other for mere hours and Ben is certain he would give up his life for her. 

He was absolutely enthralled by her, willfully engaging in the merriment of the night as they dipped and swirled and spun in joyous celebration. The sky began to shift, preparing its welcome to the rising sun, and Ben couldn’t help but notice that something new had begun to run through the fae. 

Expectation.

Deep, lingering glances were slung in their direction when they thought he wasn’t looking, sometimes even when they knew he was. 

It was the feeling of being watched by unseen eyes, actualized.

Ben sat tangled up with her against a fallen bluestone, an act that was a little sacrilegious in his mind but he would forgive himself later, given the circumstances. Rey rested against the stone, tall and proud, as she carded her fingers through his unbound hair. He had practically melted into her side, curling into her and resting his cheek against her chest to listen to the steady beat of her heart as her repeated stroking soothed something deep within his soul. At some point, she had kicked her legs over his lap and he had wrapped an arm around her to bring her closer to him in return. 

It was their own little nook of security, her body a concave haven protecting him against reality. 

Queen Phasma, for that is the name Rey had whispered to him earlier in the night, appeared as if walking through the fire itself. She cast a powerful vision as the flame licked and curled behind her, rendering the edges of the gauzy material that composed her gown transparent. Her golden hair was backlit by flame and looked as if God himself had reached down to place a halo behind her head.

She raised a hand for silence and the fae obeyed. 

Out of the many, a single man stepped forward. Familiar with the faces of the night and finding this man absent from them, Ben straightened in curiosity. A cedar box was balanced in his hands and, as he strode past them, Ben realized that it was a living entity. Youthful green shoots grasped for the sky and the fragile roots hanging from the base seemed to twine, as if on their own accord, around frail looking fingers. 

He stopped without fanfare in front of the faerie queen and they exchanged a few unhurried words before she nodded imperially in the direction of the flutist. 

A soft, hauntingly beautiful melody wove through the night. 

It felt like a farewell. 

“One last dance,” Rey breathed as she pressed a chaste kiss into Ben’s hair, “Before the night ends.”

Her fingers slipped the length of his arm as she rose to her feet, drawing goosebumps at the mere whisper of her touch along his bare flesh. He’d raised it without thinking, as if he could call this proud woman back into the circle of his arms and shelter her from the impending sun. 

Ben turned his hand at the last moment, capturing her palm in his before it had the chance to slip away. She leaned backwards, trusting in the momentum of her body to raise him up and his ability to ground her steadily back to him before she could fall. 

They moved as if joined together by an invisible force, her hands coming to wrap around his neck while his fell to her hips and drew her flush to his body. He had eyes only for his beautiful warrior as they waltzed. They lingered on the dip in her collarbone, the dilation of her pupils anytime they made contact with his, and the soft parting of her lips the moment she felt the arousal she was stirring inside him. 

Ben believed in a lot of impossible things, but until this moment he had never dreamed that love at first sight should be one of them. 

The music crested around them, casting its final spell before fading out into silence.

They came to a stop before Phasma, breathing heavily and eyes fastened on one another. 

So it was that Ben missed the moment that the faerie queen reverently opened the box before her, withdrawing a long, linen ribbon from it’s chest. It unfurled in her hands, crimson edges just barely avoiding brushing against the ground. She motioned to Rey, whose eyes flickered to her queen’s face and back. 

"_Tu es le sang de mon sang, et l'os de mes os_.” 

Rey spoke softly, her voice as sweet as honey, and Ben leaned forward, eager, as if to catch and taste every word that fell from her lips. Her hand rose as she brushed the back of her fingers tenderly along the skin of his cheek and he swayed, eyes falling closed and senses hyper-aware of the power this woman held over him.

Two women stepped forward, each taking an end of the ribbon from the hands of the queen.

"_Je te donne mon corps, pour qu'à deux nous ne fassion qu'un_.”

He was drunk, intoxicated even, capable of breathing only if he shared the same breath as her. Panic raced through Ben at the loss of her touch and his eyes shot open, only to watch as she drew his hands into her own. She clasped them gently, like a lover, as she brushed her thumb reassuringly over his knuckles.

Skillful hands passed over and under, entwining the ribbon until it completely encapsulated the hands of the couple before them. 

"_Je te donne mon âme, jusqu'à ce que nos vies s'éteignent._"

As her final word died in the air, Ben became aware of several things. 

The first being that the sun had finally peaked over the horizon and that it aligned perfectly with the trilithon that historians had long believed played an inconsequential role in Stonehenge’s history. He would write a paper on this someday, when he figured out how to quantify his data, and become internationally recognized for his contribution to academia. 

The second was the smile on Rey’s face, just on the edge of feral, that spoke of the pure, unadulterated satisfaction that she had to be bound to him. Somehow he knew that from here on out, even if he tried to outrun her, she would never be far from his side. 

And the third? The third was the fact that he felt alive with the rightness of it all. This sense of completion that had clicked like the last intricate piece slotted to finish the puzzle of his heart. He felt electrified with the need to consume her as much as she consumed him, heart and soul. 

With a growl, Ben pulled her into his body by yanking his hands roughly up to his chest. She stumbled into him with a delighted yelp, before pushing to her toes to capture his lips unexpectedly with hers. His mind exploded, awash with wonder, as she parted against him, nipping slightly when he failed to respond and breaking him from his daze. He pushed back into her then, forcing her to take a hasty step back to prevent them from falling and he felt her smile through the kiss. 

When they broke apart, it was to stare breathlessly at one another. Someone moved forward to unbind their hands and then they were back in each other's arms, gripping tightly as if the world depended on it.

“Give me your name,” she breathed onto his lips as she gazed up with those brilliant hazel eyes that sparked with the morning light, a touch of mischief, and what Ben suspected looked an awful lot like lust. 

Something nagged him then, an insistent _ tap tap tapping _ from his intellectual mind that tried to politely but firmly pull his attention away from this captivating creature before him. Something was off, something he’d probably read in a book that warned against-

He pushed it aside, too lost in her to care. 

“Ben,” he said softly as he leaned forward to brush their lips together in the faintest whisper of a caress. “My name is Ben Solo.” 

She kissed him back then, harsher than she had before. 

“Thank you.” 

Her fingers wove and fisted in his hair, sparking pleasure that bordered on pain as they tightened and suddenly he remembered. Gifts from the fae were not constrained to food or drink alone. The fae could grant you anything, in ill will or amity, and it was yours to freely take. Or at least… right up until the moment you named it. Names carried power, and once they were spoken the fae had the power to take.

He had gifted himself to Rey without a single conscious thought about the consequences such an action would carry, and she had accepted. 

The air grew hot and swirled around him, suffocating in a sudden thickness that his mind struggled to break free of. His vision narrowed until all he could see was her. 

“You’re mine now, Ben. Mine.” 

With those words haunting his mind, Ben fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re curious, the words spoken by Rey are from the beginning of an old Celtic marriage vow often used during handfasting ceremonies (according to the great and almighty google). 
> 
> Tu es le sang de mon sang, et l'os de mes os  
(_You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone_)
> 
> Je te donne mon corps, pour qu'à deux nous ne fassion qu'un  
(_I give you my body, that we two might be one_)
> 
> Je te donne mon âme, jusqu'à ce que nos vies s'éteignent  
(_I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done_)
> 
> Due to my deep distrust of google translate, the lovely [Marie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyflo) was kind enough to translate the vows into French for me, making it both super soft and extra magical.
> 
> A huge 'thank you!' to [Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkknightdarkside) for being the best beta a girl could have, and to [Theresa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3) for being a hidden treasure trove for all things grammar and fae! At Theresa's request, here's [Faerie Queen Phasma's](https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/gettyimages-1173130944.jpg?resize=480:*) dress inspo! Bow down and weep, mortals! 
> 
> **A very late A/N in December 2020:** I’ve decided to cut this at two chapters because, while I love it to pieces and hope to return to this world someday, TROS really turned my plans for this fic on it’s head and a (well intentioned) comment by a friend that this story felt complete never quite stopped naggling in the back of my mind. 
> 
> Thank you, lovely readers, for being swept away by the magic of this little world as passionately as I was. It’s my favorite piece I’ve written and I appreciate you sharing in it.


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